


I Kissed A Unicorn

by Regina_Wren



Category: Glee
Genre: Bullying, Explicit Language, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Harassment, Slice of Life, no worse than canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2019-10-09 09:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17404691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Wren/pseuds/Regina_Wren
Summary: Santana Lopez has a lot to deal with: school, Cheerios, Glee Club, the future, her now public relationship with Brittany, and a certain jock who doesn't seem to understand the meaning of the word "lesbian".





	I Kissed A Unicorn

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a response to "I Kissed a Girl" and ended up more of a response to "Heart", and a few episodes in between, charting Santana's journey from scared and angry, to defiant and confident. Thank you to those who put up with me crowing when the story was going well, whining and screaming when it wasn't, and thank you for not letting me give up on myself; you know who you are.

When the music started Blaine and Mercedes glanced at each other. Slow grins spread across their faces, he made a half bow, and Mercedes launched them into the song.

_So no one told you life was gonna be this way,_   
_Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's DOA,_   
_It's like you're always stuck in second gear,_   
_Well it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year._

This song always made Santana think of the TV show, but she had to admit it was a fitting choice to celebrate the reunion of the school's Glee Clubs. Blaine was ridiculous, but he and Mercedes actually sounded good together, and they looked like they were having the time of their lives.

Brittany was first out of her chair, hopping to her feet with a bright smile and a tug on Santana's hand.

_But I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour._   
_I'll be there for you, like I've been there before_   
_I'll be there for you, cause you're there for me too._

Santana skipped after Brittany, following her to the front of the room.

Blaine's face lit up with childish delight when he saw them, and Mercedes greeted them with open arms.

Tina and Mike were already joining in, two graceful dancers, him spinning her across the room. Rachel wasn't far behind and even Kurt couldn't stay on the sidelines long, not when his boyfriend turned to start singing to him. It didn't take long for most of the Glee Club to be out of their seats, singing and dancing along. Puck and Sam grabbed guitars, and Finn took over the drumming. Even Mr. Schuester tapped along in his chair.

_I'll be there for you..._

By the end it was less Mercedes and Blaine singing and more the entire Glee Club singing along. As awesome as being part of the Troubletones was, Santana had to admit it was good to be back in New Directions. It was good to be home.

Brittany was radiant as she sang. She smiled, her blonde ponytail flying as she spun under Santana's arm. She made Santana think of summer sunshine, even now, in the middle of winter.

_I'll be there for you_   
_Cause you're there for me too._

Santana sang the last two lines only for Brittany. 

Brittany flushed and wrapped her up in a breathless hug just as the song ended and the last notes echoed out. Whoops and applause broke out across the room. Mike was lifting and spinning Tina off the ground. Kurt and Blaine had their arms slung around each others' shoulders. Santana closed her eyes and memorized the feeling of Brittany's body in her arms once more before letting go again.

The bell went only moments later, and the choir room descended into a completely different kind of noise. Bags were grabbed, plans were made, a book went flying across the room, and the members of New Directions scattered, formed groups, and trickled out the door.

Beyond the choir room, other clubs let out at the same time and the school hallways were full of students again.

"Do you think the elves get earaches from the noise?" Brittany asked, as she and Santana set off together. They had no Cheerios practice today; Coach Sylvester was going downright easy on them this year, almost as if winning Nationals wasn't her biggest concern anymore. That was suspicious in itself.

"What elves?" Santana asked.

"The ones that ring the bells." Brittany pointed at the one on the wall as they left the classroom. She looked at it with great concern.

Santana debated on how to answer that one. Telling her that there were no elves and that the bell rang itself would only confuse her more, but telling her the elves would already be deaf by now would probably upset her.

"I'm pretty sure a computer rings these bells, Britt," Kurt said over his shoulder. Santana hadn't even noticed him and Blaine walking ahead of them.

"How?" Brittany's forehead furrowed.

"Someone from the school programs the bells to ring at certain times," Kurt said.

"Like an alarm clock," Blaine added in that creepy finishing-each-other's-sentences way they sometimes did. But Brittany's eyes lit up in understanding so Santana couldn't think too badly of them. 

"I get it!" Brittany said. "So the people who sleep in class get woken up!"

The boys smiled.

"That's certainly one benefit," Kurt said.

So okay, Santana kinda liked that Kurt was as patient as he was with Brittany, and she could respect whatever odd little friendship was between them, because she knew how easy it was to love Brittany. Two years ago she had hated Kurt and wouldn't have been caught dead walking down the hallway with these losers. But now the people she used to look down on had become better friends than she liked to admit. The Cheerios respected her, but she wouldn't trust any of them at her back, and they certainly wouldn't stand with her in a crisis. New Directions, as crazy as they were, had proven themselves a long time ago.

Besides, the unit that was Kurt-and-Blaine took much of McKinley's scorn and gossip off her and Brittany. Most of it anyway. She wasn't ungrateful for that.

"What's up, Lesbos?"

Santana went cold, then hot in quick succession. She recognized the jock walking past. Josh Coleman. The one who'd so rudely propositioned her before.

She was still staring after him in shock when another voice called out.

"What the hell, dude?" Finn stood further down the hall, gaping stupidly.

Coleman only shrugged and smirked. Then he shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered off. 

Santana became aware of how tightly she was gripping her books, and flexed her fingers. Her frozen brain kicked in again and then she was furious. She needed to stop freezing when someone raised her sexuality. She couldn't continue letting people get to her like this.

"Santana?" Kurt asked.

She made a mental note to spread an embarrassing rumor about Coleman, and had a moment of regret that she'd never slept with him and therefore had no ammunition on his private parts. But it was only a moment in habit, because no way would it have been worth that traumatic experience. She'd just have to make something up. Maybe he only had one testicle.

Santana tossed her head, feeling her ponytail swish behind her. "It's fine."

"No, it's not," Blaine looked strangely sad. 

Kurt's jaw was tight. Brittany looked concerned.

No, they were right. None of it was fine, but none of it was anything she couldn't handle either.

"Come on. If the basketballers have stolen my seat again I'm setting the gym on fire."

She was only half joking as she led the way outside. Cheerios fell out of her way. That felt good. Out or not, she was still Head Bitch at this school. She just had to make sure she stayed that way.

 

* * *

 

The sun was low over Ohio, long shadows stretching across the football field at William McKinley High School. For a change, the Cheerios were training outside, and as the sun sank lower, the temperature dropped accordingly.

Santana had no idea where the sports teams were training, but right now Cheerios were spread out across the field, practicing dance moves as Coach Sylvester bellowed the count into her megaphone. She watched with narrow eyes as Cheerios moved in unison, some more so than others. Kim was struggling to keep up, and Justine seemed to be making up entirely her own moves on the fly.

"Justine! Arms together!" Santana called out as she and Becky paced up and down in front of the routine, keeping watch. This was the group headed to the National Cheerleading Championships in just a couple of months. They had to be worthy of it, never mind what Coach Sylvester would do to them if they failed to win, Santana would personally eviscerate someone if they didn't win this year. Probably Justine.

On her way past, Becky bumped into Santana's hip. Santana shoved back. Hard.

"Don't push me!" Becky snapped.

"Yeah? Well, watch where you're going," Santana shot back.

"Watch your job!"

Santana glanced quickly over at the Cheerios, but they were still in their rows on the field, following Coach Sylvester's bellowed instructions, an army in red and white. "Watch your back," Santana replied.

It was an empty threat, and Becky knew it. Despite their mutual animosity, Santana would never actually do anything serious to Becky. Not too serious anyway. Mainly because Becky was the only one who came close to rivaling her for the title of Head Bitch, and Santana couldn't help but respect that kind of conniving personality a little. Also, Coach Sylvester would skin her alive if she crossed that line.

"Ladies." 

Speak of the Devil. 

Coach Sylvester wandered over to them.

In front of them the girls were still spread out across the field, still going over the same moves. There were no male Cheerios this year. 

Beyond the field Santana could see students wandering past. One of them stopped to watch. She squinted. She knew that face.

Coleman took a moment to make a lewd gesture in her direction. Santana frowned. He was getting tiring.

She was distracted by Coach Sylvester speaking again.

"As much as I delight in listening to you, I hope you two are planning on working together to get to Nationals."

Santana and Becky eyed each other warily.

"Cheerios!" Coach Sylvester bellowed into her megaphone. "First two rows, you're Team A. Hit the showers! You too, Santana!" The last part was right in Santana's ear, and Coach Sylvester didn't even bother dropping her megaphone first.

Her ear was still ringing as she set off. Behind her, Coach Sylvester was still yelling instructions. "The rest of you, you're Team B; means B for Becky. From now until Nationals there will be Captain's Training sessions every morning before school, and she will be the one kicking your sore, sorry asses..."

Santana let a smirk cross her face. Team A had all the former Troubletones. They'd all been a team together before. If she was going to be in charge of Team A's Captain's Training, Becky's team would be struggling to catch up with them.

Even Becky didn't look happy. But then, she didn't look happy very often these days in general, so who knew what was going on there. Then Santana wondered why she even cared.

Brittany jogged up to her. "Hey."

Santana glanced over her shoulder as she walked. She couldn't tell from this distance if Coleman was still there, watching or not, but she pointedly reached for Brittany's hand.

Brittany smiled.

If it kept Brittany smiling like that Santana never wanted to let go, no matter who was watching. But her heart pounded wildly and she never stopped looking for potential threats as they walked to the locker room.

 

* * *

 

"Hello, Brittany," Santana's dad greeted them when they walked in. He was sitting in the living room, a book in his hands as usual.

"Hi, Mr. Lopez," Brittany gave him a small wave.

"Santana, you're just in time," he continued. "What would you say is the best way to live your life?"

"Take names and hide the corpses," Santana said, dumping her empty gym bag in the corner between her brother's hockey sticks and some tennis racquets. She was still wearing her uniform and she planned to let Brittany help her out of that very soon.

"Well, I suppose that's one way of applying the concept," her father said mostly to himself. 

Santana cast a glance at his book. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what he was he reading this time. "We're going to my room," she told him.

As they headed down the hall, her father called after her, "Your mail is on your bed."

Brittany dumped her books on the floor as soon as they reached Santana's room and went for the radio. Brittany was as comfortable in this house by now as in her own.

Among the envelopes on Santana's bed was a bank statement and her phone bill. Nothing else. No college letters yet. Of course. But Santana was getting just a bit tired of waiting. She sighed as she dropped the envelopes on her desk again.

The sounds of Adele drifted through the room.

Santana's heart contracted. They'd listened to so much Adele that week, trying to find the perfect mash-up for The Troubletones, before her life had turned upside down. Now it would always remind her.

"Come lie down with me," Brittany said, crawling onto the bed.

"And do what?" Santana asked, options already flashing through her head.

"Just lie down."

Santana didn't hesitate. She rolled into Brittany's arms and into the warmth she found there, and for a moment she just lay there, breathing the familiar scent. Brittany smelt like home to her. She always had, even before Santana acknowledged to herself what that meant.

"What were you thinking about?" Brittany asked.

"College." The idea loomed ahead of them, big and foreboding in Santana's mind, like an approaching storm. Brittany's fingers stroked across her back, and she wished this would never end, never change. Now she had Brittany, she couldn't bear the thought of letting go.

She knew Kurt and Rachel wanted to go to New York. They were good enough that they would make it too. She didn't know what Kurt and Blaine were planning, and last she'd heard, Rachel and Finn were planning to break up after this year, when she left. In a fit of madness Santana had applied for one school in New York, because like hell Hummel and Berry were better than she was. It wasn't the only one of course. It wasn't even her first choice. But it was an option, if they accepted her.

"I want to teach children how to dance," Brittany said.

"I know."

Santana knew Brittany would be a good teacher too. Like a cross between Mr. Schuester and Miss Holliday. Except better. She loved children and children loved her.

That was why Santana had also applied for another school with a very different idea in mind. She needed to know how to run a successful business. If Brittany wanted to open a dance school, Santana wanted to make that happen.

But not even Brittany knew about that one yet.

 

* * *

 

The girls in the locker room were as chatty and noisy as ever. Sweaty uniforms were tossed into laundry bags, new ones exchanged and extras hung up in lockers.

"Don't touch me," someone yelped. "I'm all gross. I need a shower."

"We're all equally gross, Justine."

"Awesome jumps, Britt," someone else said.

"Thanks."

"I don't know why I keep dropping my baton."

"Seriously? Coach is going to replace you if you don't have it down by next week!"

"Oh yeah? How are your jumps coming along, Caroline?"

"Hey, it's not my fault Emily keeps dropping me."

"What? You just need to learn to balance better."

"Hey," Brittany said quietly at Santana's side. She was brushing out her hair with a purple hairbrush that had a unicorn on the back.

"Hey."

Brittany leaned on one hip, long blonde hair streaming over her shoulder as she brushed. She was so beautiful. "You're a really good captain," Brittany said. "Everyone's talking to each other. It's not like Glee Club, but..." she shrugged to complete her sentence.

"I know." The Cheerios would never be like Glee Club. But at least things were sort of friendly in this locker room. No one from Team B hung around to chat after training. Not the way her team did. And no one had said anything against her and Brittany, or the relationship between them. Santana felt a little bit proud of her team for that. It was already a huge step up from the rest of Ohio. It was a huge step up from her grandmother even.

"We're going to win Nationals this year," Brittany said, scooping her hair back up into a ponytail. She sounded completely certain on that.

Santana smiled. "You know it."

"Because we have you," Brittany added.

Santana's heart warmed. Brittany always had that effect on her, no matter how awful or angry she was feeling. She didn't believe in magic, but Brittany did, and sometimes she made Santana wonder.

"We also have you," Santana pointed out.

"That's true," Brittany said earnestly.

When Brittany wandered back to her locker, Santana saw some of the girls staring at them. They quickly glanced away when they caught her eye, mostly girls from Team B, but a few of her girls too, Amy and Taylor among them.

Time to put her foot down, she decided.

"Alright, listen up, Team A," Santana raised her voice. "I'm gonna start calling in extra training for those of you who don't have those moves down by tomorrow. And when I say extra I mean you are not going to see your homes except to sleep until after Nationals."

That worked. They all looked at each other, equally grim.

Team B studiously ignored them all.

Emily T. spoke up timidly. "How long did it take you to learn those jumps?"

"A week," Santana told her. "I practiced jumping over my grandmother's piranha tank."

"Wait, seriously?" Caroline asked, pulling a new skirt on. She had no qualms about standing around in her underwear. "Your grandmother keeps piranhas?"

Santana nodded. "She says it's in case anyone breaks into her house. If they survive her dog, Brutus, she'll reward them with a swim in her fish tank. And trust me when I say I'll make that look tame if you don't get those moves sorted."

A few of her team looked at each other, worried.

Caroline turned to Emily. "Okay, you are coming over to my place. We are learning those jumps."

"Yeah," Justine nodded. "Tisha, you need to teach me how to spin that baton and catch it. I keep hitting myself on the head."

"Hey, does anyone have any tweezers I can borrow?"

The locker room went back to its usual state of noise. Santana smiled to herself. She would terrify them all into submission if she had to, and turn them into a proper team for Becky to be jealous of in the process. She was already looking forward to rubbing Becky's face in it.

 

* * *

 

Santana stopped outside the door, knocking on it with her knuckles. Normally she liked to barge right in, but in this case... "Are you decent?" She called through the door, because as hilarious as it would be seeing Hummel embarrassed, there were sides of him that she never needed to see.

She could almost hear Kurt rolling his eyes. "Come in, Santana."

She grinned and pushed open the door, Brittany right behind her.

Blaine's room was done up in dark colors, classic and tasteful, and a little too formal for Santana's tastes, but it suited him. She peered around, taking in all the art and trinkets around the place. Nothing about this room looked like it belonged to a teenage boy. Her grandfather maybe, but nothing like her brother's bomb-site of a bedroom.

"We brought cookies," Brittany said, holding up her kitten platter. "I'm not allowed to bake on my own so my mom helped."

Blaine gave her a sleepy smile from the bed. "Thanks Brittany."

Kurt stood to take the platter from Brittany.

"So how's the invalid?" Santana asked.

"Mainly tired," Blaine said, as though that wasn't obvious. "But they said the surgery went well. I need to go back and see the doctor again next week though, so we'll know for sure then."

Kurt had shared all that at school of course, but it was still reassuring to see Blaine doing okay, even if his eye was still covered. At least he was mostly upright and smiling, but that could have been down to the drugs.

Brittany sat down in the nearest comfortable seat, and Santana watched Kurt settle back down on the bed beside Blaine. She scarcely hesitated before settling herself across Brittany's lap. These boys wouldn't care; they, more than anyone, wouldn't judge her. She knew that. She just hated that fear had crept under her skin and made her think twice in the first place.

Brittany's arms settled warmly around her waist.

"On the up side," Blaine continued, "I haven't heard a peep from Sebastian."

"And it only took losing an eye," Kurt said.

"Come on," Blaine said, setting one hand on Kurt's knee.

Kurt sighed. "You're right. It'll be fine. And I am glad Sebastian's been keeping his distance."

"I still think you should have gotten him expelled," Santana said.

Blaine let out a soft sigh. "We can't. Dalton's investigation won't do anything because we weren’t on school grounds, and it wasn’t a school event. The school can't intervene every time students get into scraps outside of school time."

"He maimed you!" Santana pointed out. "That's more than a scrap!"

"I know, Santana," Blaine said, his voice low with... something. Pain? Hurt? Anger? "I know. I don't like it either, but it doesn't change the rules or everyone would want the school to be responsible for everything boys do. Even with the zero tolerance bullying policy, Dalton is a stickler for rules. I just never thought I'd be the one at the mercy of them." Santana had never heard him sound so defeated. 

"Anyway, his father's the State's Attorney, so he'd find some way out of trouble," Kurt added. "Blaine and I agreed that the most we could do was to expose Sebastian to the Warblers and hope it affects his reputation at school."

"And then beat him at Regionals," Blaine added as if there was no other possibility.

Kurt smiled again. "That too."

Santana watched them, and bit down on her tongue. Sebastian had already succeeded in controlling the Warblers so far, so she didn't doubt he'd find a way to cause trouble again and again. She knew she would. They should have at least tried to fight back. And if it didn't change anything, at least Sebastian would know they were no doormats. On the other hand, if he didn't take the tape as a warning, he'd be a fool.

Still, it wasn't her call to make. No matter how she felt about the way they wanted to play it, she couldn't take that choice away from them. Not when she knew what it felt like to have her decision taken away from her. Resentment of Finn was still too raw in the back of her mind, like a shadow under everything. The situation wasn't the same, but the hurt was still there, a quiet reminder of other people meddling in her life.

She clicked her tongue in frustration, and Brittany stroked her hip lightly in comfort.

"Mm, these are really good, Brittany," Blaine said, biting into a cookie.

"Thanks."

"So what have I been missing at school?"

The discussion turned to lighter topics: gossiping about the love triangle forming between Sam, Mercedes, and Shane, and whether Miss Pillsbury would change her name to Schuester or not, and whoever had spray-painted the ceiling of the Home Ec. classroom. Santana still wasn't satisfied, but she let it go.

 

* * *

 

When Santana met Brittany for the first time it was in a brightly lit room with colorful pictures on the walls. She was four years old and the Pierce family had just moved into the area. Their little blonde daughter didn't speak much at first, but she always smiled.

Santana didn't pay much attention to her that first day; she was too busy building sandcastles with a young Noah Puckerman. They were playing quite happily until Noah decided he was a dinosaur and trampled all over her castle. Santana retaliated by hitting him with a bucket.

It didn't take Santana long to decide that the naughty corner was really, really boring. She was just trying to amuse herself by picking at her skirt, fraying the hem even further, when the new girl snuck over.

Santana looked around, but a kid was screaming elsewhere and their teacher was nowhere in sight. 

"You're not supposed to talk to me," Santana hissed.

The girl just smiled and held out a rock.

"You're gonna get in trouble too," Santana tried again, wondering if the girl was stupid.

But the other girl didn't even look away. She just held out the rock more insistently.

Santana took it warily and looked at it. It was just a rock: grey and a bit flat, and completely unremarkable. But the blonde girl beamed and skipped away again without a word.

Santana spent the rest of her time in the naughty corner puzzling over that and clutching her rock tightly so that no teachers would take it off her. She was finally let out of the corner, when Noah deliberately sat on a chubby little boy called David and took her place in the naughty corner.

Santana found the new girl looking very intently at a stuffed cat, and held out the rock to return it.

The girl beamed at her and exchanged her the rock for a stuffed rhino.

After that, Brittany never left Santana's side again, and by the time they were in high school the only thing Santana remembered of that day was Brittany's sunny smile.

 

* * *

 

Santana spent a lot of her time being angry, mainly because the world sucked. Between her general anger at the world, Sebastian's assholery, Coleman's constant leers, and now Mr. Schue's Spanish suck, there was enough to keep her at a constant low level simmer.

It was even worse because she kind of liked Mr. Schue. At least in Glee Club. It made his arrogance in Spanish that much worse.

Santana walked out of Figgins' office feeling better for having lodged a complaint. At the very least it might get Mr. Schue to think twice. Figgins' door swung shut behind her and she stopped short. 

Coleman's eyes swept over her in a way that made her skin crawl. "Such a shame," he told her. "You're too pretty to be a lesbian. You know, my offer still stands any time you decide to be normal again."

Santana stared after him as he walked away, feeling unclean. All she could think was, what the hell?

By the time she realized she should have been yelling at him, he was long gone.

For the most part, she avoided the jocks as much as possible. The bizarre consequence was that she now knew Coleman's timetable almost as well as her own. She knew which hallways to avoid at what times to avoid running into him. She knew where he hung out and sat, and what times he left and went to class.

At the same time it pissed her off that she had to avoid the looks and leers like this. She itched to punch them off his face and became paralyzed every time instead.

To take out her frustration, she laid into her cheerleaders.

"We won't get that trophy at this rate!" Santana tore into Justine one day. "And I am not losing just because you can't keep your balance!"

Justine wobbled just slightly on her board, but it stayed where it was, balanced on a medicine ball. On her precarious perch, Justine kept her eyes forward and her lips pressed together.

Across the field, Coach Sylvester watched Santana with a look that wasn't disapproving but wasn't pleased either.

At least Santana still had this. Whatever life that McKinley sucked out of her on a daily basis, the Cheerios she could control, Glee Club kept her sane, and Brittany let her breathe again. With Brittany, she felt alive.

 

* * *

 

And then there was this weird sort-of friendship with Kurt going on.

Once again Santana fell into step with him on the way to English class. When she had started at McKinley, she, Brittany, and Quinn had spent all their time with the other Cheerios. Now she was walking with the boy everyone knew was gay the moment he first set foot in the school, someone she even kind of liked and actually respected these days.

"Have you sent Blaine pictures of Señor Martinez yet?"

Kurt's mouth twitched into a coy smile. "Of course. He's totally jealous for missing out. But with any luck he should be back at school in time for Valentine's Day."

Santana smirked. "Planning on getting your freak on, huh?"

"None of your business, Santana," he said with a level voice.

She grinned, noting with some delight that he wasn't denying it. "Seriously, you're as terminally virginal as Quinn. You'll still be innocent as babies when you've got children and grandchildren. It's sickening."

Kurt walked on with a regal lift to his chin, but he was undeniably pink around the ears. "Sometimes I'm not sure why I even talk to you."

Santana waved off the comment with a flick of her hand. "I'm just saying, you people make me want to puke sometimes. But still not as much as Berry and Goliath do."

Kurt squinted at her. "I think there was a backhanded compliment in there somewhere, so I'm just going to say, thank you, Santana, and leave it at that."

She beamed at him. She liked when people agreed with her. "You're welcome."

Down the corridor Josh Coleman was walking towards her, and her heart beat faster. Not him again. She watched with laser focus as he came towards them, and Santana raised her chin defiantly. Surely he wasn't stupid enough to try anything in a crowded hallway?

He didn't even notice her. He passed her without a word.

Santana breathed a little easier.

"Hey, Lesbo," the familiar voice said behind her.

Santana froze. Beside her, Kurt went very still.

"If you're looking for a real man you need to stop hanging out with the ladyboys."

Santana's heart thudded in her ears. She was suddenly aware of everyone stopping to stare in the hallway. All those eyes. She couldn't think.

Then Kurt was yelling. "Well, keep dreaming! Because with an attitude like that, the only girls you're going to get are blow up ones!"

"Like you'd know the first thing about girls," Coleman shot back.

"Clearly more than you know." Kurt's face was hard and furious.

Santana should have been like that. She usually was. But now she couldn't think of any response. Instead confusion, frustration, and a horrible chill held her mute. She was used to shouting at the world. Now, with everyone staring at her, she could only stand silent, as Coleman and his attacks on her sexuality loomed large and dark in her head. Everything she had feared. Everything she had hated and denied for so long was thrown back in her face. Her worst nightmare come to life. She was living it.

Coleman scoffed and walked away.

Santana watched him go, heart hammering.

All around people were moving, pretending not to have seen, but she could feel the weight of their stares anyway. Heavy. Suffocating. She was now just as much a pariah as Kurt. The one people turned away from, pretended not to see, to care. The one people secretly thought deserved it.

Kurt's voice was suddenly soft. "I shouldn't have done that. I thought it was over..."

"No," Santana found herself saying. "I should have done that. What is wrong with me, Kurt?"

"Nothing," he said immediately. "There's nothing wrong with you. But there's a lot wrong with the people at this school. They find what makes you hurt, pick at your weaknesses, wear you down..."

She knew all that. She did the same. It was after all the best way of hurting someone.

"I'm sorry the boys at this school are such Neanderthals," Kurt continued. When he finally looked at her, she could see her own pain reflected on his face.

That pity pissed her off. First Finn and now Kurt was trying to tell her what to do. All her rage bubbled to the surface once more, words bursting free, sharp as broken glass.

"Don't you dare pity me! I wasn't joking about the razorblades!" Santana shouldn't need him to defend her. She'd faced worse than Coleman before.

He didn't even blink. "I was just going to say that if you ever want to bitch about the administration at this school, I am so there."

Santana glanced away, her throat burning. She caught Brittany's gaze from further down the hall. Brittany was watching her with uncertainty.

"You're not alone," Kurt said quietly. "I think you know that."

Watching his face, Santana thought she understood for the first time the difference between pity and compassion.

She blinked away the stupid tears already threatening again, and took a breath. Her resolve hardened.

"Right. I'm putting a stop to this right now."

She left Kurt staring, and marched straight up to Brittany. Fury eclipsed her fear now. Let them all stare. They couldn't grind her down before; they weren't going to succeed now.

Before she could rethink her plan, Santana cupped Brittany's face and pressed a firm kiss against her mouth.

Her ears were ringing. She could feel the stares. This was nothing like making out with Brittany at that party end of freshman year. The attention now was completely different and so much less forgiving. Back then, kissing Brittany had been okay because she didn't mean it. How fucked up the world was when pretence was celebrated and real love condemned.

She felt Brittany respond, kissing back a few seconds before they parted again.

Brittany's eyes were alight and shining. "Are we doing this now?" she asked. She really was the bravest person Santana had ever met. She'd never been afraid of the world's judgement.

Santana refused to look around, although she was aware of the looks, the whispers. Brittany was the only one who mattered. "Yeah," she said. "We are."

Brittany beamed, and everything was worth that.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't easy. Apart from coming out to her family, it was the hardest thing Santana had ever done. She trembled the first day, kept an eye out for slushies or worse every time she kissed Brittany before heading off to class.

She trembled the second day too, but it was with already with more giddiness than fear. Every time she expected a shout, a lewd or disgusted comment, and every time went unremarked. She could hardly believe it. She knew it wouldn't last, but every time their actions went forgiven, every time the peace lasted a little longer, Santana walked a little bit taller. No one commented. No one whispered. No one yelled.

And every time she kissed Brittany in front of everyone, she felt a little bit lighter.

She still avoided the jocks, but already things were changing and Santana's confidence was returning, day by day.

 

* * *

 

They were bilingual at home. Santana's parents spoke both Spanish and English to their children, and since Santana spoke only English at school, she ended up understanding more Spanish than she could speak. It was her grandmother who taught her and her brother more than anything. A lot of the time it was "stop that!" and "be quiet!" but there were also stories her grandmother told her. The stories were of life back in Puerto Rico, where her grandmother had grown up in a tough neighborhood with a strict father and a devout mother. Santana's favourite stories were of her grandmother beating the neighbor's boys at their own games.

In those days Santana's father was still studying for his degree, and her mother worked full time, so Santana and her brother were picked up from school by their grandmother.

Sometimes she took them shopping with her. Santana always admired the way her grandmother shouldered her way through the crowds and stood her ground when anyone tried to push ahead of her in line. Santana memorized exactly how her grandmother took down anyone rude enough to try that.

When she unleashed the same stream of abuse on Noah at school the next day, her parents were called. Santana thought that was extremely unfair. After all, no one had even understood what she had been yelling at him.

The next day after that, Noah offered to teach her to skateboard and to fight. The first came in handy when she tried out for the Cheerios in her freshman year. The second came in handy for everything else.

 

* * *

 

The days rolled ahead, unstoppable. Regionals for Glee Club were fast approaching, as were Nationals for the Cheerios. And beyond that, the end of the school year and Graduation.

And then Santana found herself walking through the school with a scowl again. If she ever found out who had made that complaint against her and Brittany there would be hell to pay.

It wouldn't stop her from kissing Brittany, but she seriously considered making complaints about every heterosexual couple she saw kissing at school just to balance things out. If Figgins was serious about addressing every complaint, regardless of who it was, that should keep him busy and off her back for a good long while. But she wasn't naïve enough to think he would actually do anything about those complaints. At this school, complaints only counted if it was gay kids being complained about. She knew that.

It was the God Squad and their singing Valentines that gave her the unmissable opportunity. Hippy Jesus was there, and Santana was still silently fuming at every bible thumper in the school, she just couldn't resist.

She pasted a sharp smile on and tucked her money into the strings of Hippy Jesus' guitar as she put in her own request for a singing Valentine.

"I'd like to send one to my girlfriend, Brittany, and by that I don't mean my friend who is a girl, I mean my girlfriend girlfriend. How does that sound?"

She enjoyed seeing the confusion on his face.

It was only as she walked away that she realized what she'd just done. She's never called Brittany her girlfriend in public. She'd never come out like that to a stranger before.

It felt really, really good.

 

* * *

 

"So has Sugar said who her special guest will be?" Kurt asked, swirling his coffee absently.

"She only said he'll be singing the first verse," Mercedes answered.

The Lima Bean was full at this hour, but half the members of New Directions, plus one Teen Jesus, had managed to grab a couple of tables in the corner, and now the seven of them were crowded together in a cozy little circle. Santana wasn't going to complain since the tight fit squeezed her and Brittany close.

"Maybe it's Señor Martinez," Sam suggested.

There were a few grins and sniggers around the group.

"Wait," Joe asked, "the new Spanish teacher?"

"He came to Glee Club last week," Quinn explained. "He made quite an impression."

"Even on the straight guys," Kurt added.

"Okay, so after Love Shack," Mercedes said, bringing them back on topic, "Puck and Artie want to do a duet, and then I'm doing my solo." She made a mark on the paper in front of her.

"Wait," Santana said, "so all of us can sing something if we want?" She ran through a few particularly raunchy ideas in her head as her eyes slid over to Joe. She didn't know if he was the one who had complained about her and Brittany kissing at school, but he hadn't given her a reply to her singing Valentine yet either.

"As long as Sugar approves it," Mercedes said. "She reserves the right to veto anything inappropriate."

Santana frowned and mentally waved goodbye to most of her ideas.

"In that case, put me down for a solo," Kurt said immediately.

Santana sat up straighter. "The Troubletones should totally do a number too."

"Hell yeah," Mercedes grinned and scribbled something down on her notes.

Santana felt Brittany's hand rest on her knee and glanced over. Brittany just smiled at her.

Across the table, Joe was watching them, but not with disgust as she was expecting. Instead he looked like he was trying to work out a particularly complicated math equation.

Beyond him though, on the other side of the coffee shop, a couple of old ladies watched them with far less friendly expressions. Santana considered out-glaring them, but then decided she was here with friends, not to waste time on old cranks, and settled on ignoring them.

"We need a slow song," Sam put in, "to give all the couples a chance to dance together." His eyes were set meaningfully on Mercedes. She glanced away, looking strangely guilty, and wasn't that interesting? Santana's inner cheating detector perked up. There was definitely more going on there, but she was distracted again by Quinn.

"I could do that," Quinn said. "I'm not going to be dancing with anyone special, like most of you."

Without Finn and Rachel to pad out the performance list, they still managed to come up with a decent list, incorporating everyone who had volunteered so far.

Afterwards the discussion turned to decorations (organized by Mr. Motta) and the inherent cheesiness of red and pink hearts all over everything. Kurt professed an annual forgiveness of all that bad taste, because people in love did stupid things sometimes, such as succumb to bad taste. Santana would have laughed at him if she hadn't understood that a little too well.

But even as the discussion went on and Santana tried not to look, she was aware of the two ladies watching her. She wondered if they had recognized her from TV, because really, it wasn't like she and Brittany were doing anything straight girls wouldn't do, at least above the table. She wondered how long it would take for people to forget her face. She wondered if those ladies had granddaughters. She wondered if they would reject them if those granddaughters came out.

Even months later, it still made her heart twist and ache.

 

* * *

 

It was Valentine's Day when everything blew up. The day started off so well with Brittany and all through the day, up until Glee Club when Mercedes performed the most heartbreaking and breathtaking performance of "I Will Always Love You" that Santana had heard in a long time. In the end, Sam walked out of the choir room, leaving behind an equally upset Mercedes, and a room full of silent people. For a moment no one spoke.

Then Becky poked her head in the door. 

"I need to see Santana," she said.

The moment was broken.

Santana frowned as she pulled away from Brittany's side. It had to be the Cheerios, but she couldn't even begin to think what was going on.

Mr. Schuester didn't even try to stop her. He only cleared his throat and got up to try and take control of the class again, as Santana left the room.

Becky was waiting outside and held out a sheet of paper to her.

"Schedules," she said.

Santana took her Cheerio schedule and skimmed it. "Wait, this is the wrong one. You gave me the Team B schedule."

Becky, who was already halfway down the hallway paused and turned back to her. "I know. I have Team A," she said.

"Wait, what?" Santana frowned. "Team A, as in, my Troubletones and best cheerleaders?"

Becky shrugged. "Good luck. You'll need it." She turned to walk away again, but Santana made use of her longer legs to step in front of her.

"Huh uh, no way. I trained those girls, and I am not having you steal them now. Not this close to Nationals. Team B, is yours, or what passes for a team. I've worked hard these past two months, and I'm not letting some little upstart," she poked Becky in the chest, "take that away from me."

Becky's eyes flashed. "Don't touch me!"

But Santana was only just getting started. It had been too long since she had let loose - at least a week. First the world judged her sexuality, and the school made her want to take out the whole damn place with a fireball, and now this little snake wanted to take her team. And what really galled Santana was that she would have done the same thing given the chance. Well, she was not going to let that happen.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it? You take my Cheerios, I take your face."

Becky held up her schedule as though she were brandishing it as a weapon. "Take it up with Coach. It's her call," she said. "Suck it up, Sandbags!"

Santana grabbed hold of Becky's uniform. She ignored the indignant, "Let go of me!" and hauled Becky after her. Unfortunately Coach Sylvester's office wasn't far, so she didn't get to drag Becky too far.

"What the hell is this?" Santana stormed inside, holding up her schedule.

Becky was practically hissing and spitting as she was dragged in behind her.

"Why, I do believe that's your schedule," Coach Sylvester said, scarcely looking up from her journal. "Or did those monkeys in the office print out last year's entry for Will Schuester in the Farmyard Look-alikes Competition again? Because in that case, feel free to poster it all around the school."

"Team A is my team!" Santana started. "I'm not spending my time making Team B catch up just because my Co-Captain," she injected all the spite she could into the title, "can't do her job."

Becky crossed her arms.

Coach Sylvester finally put her pen down. "I would have thought you'd take it as a compliment. Your hard work is why Team A is the way it is, and now you get to share that with the other half of the Cheerios."

"We're going to be training every day just to catch up!"

"Then I suggest you get started."

"But I have Regionals for Glee Club coming up!" Too late Santana remembered that Coach Sylvester hated the Glee Club.

Predictably, Coach wasn't moved. "Well, that's just too bad for you then, isn't is? I told you at the start of the year to pick where your loyalties lay. If you want to be Co-Captain of the Cheerios, you gotta put in the effort." She smiled like a shark. "Team B is counting on you."

Santana glanced over at Becky to see the other girl looking pleased.

She would pay. Santana would make them all pay.

She spun and stalked out of the office wanting to scream. She only hoped someone would try to hassle her in the hallway. She was spoiling for a good fight.

No one did. They all kept their eyes down, like they could sense the nuclear pressure building inside her, and hurried to get out of the way. 

Other days Santana would have been pleased. Now it just pissed her off.

She reached the choir room ready to explode.

No one was in their seats anymore. Puck was strumming something and half the Glee Club was trying out some kind of dance moves.

"So we step left," Finn was explaining to Tina, lumbering to the left, "then turn."

Tina spun gracefully beside him.

Santana saw red. "What the hell are you doing?"

Finn glanced up, his stupid face confused as usual.

"You? Explaining dance moves to Tina?" Santana continued. "What do you know about dancing? In fact, what do you know about anything?"

The room fell silent.

"And while we're at it, what gives you the right to tell Tina what to do? Or any of us? Maybe we don't want your help, or didn't you even think of that, because believe it or not, you don't always know better. No one asked for your help, so you have no right telling anyone what to do, or what choices to make."

"Santana..." Kurt started, softly, but she ignored him.

Her eyes stung now, but she was on a roll. "What made you think you could ever tell us what to do? You have no idea what it's like! What it's like to be hated every day, even by your own family! Or what shit some of us go through, because you decided you were more important! Or because you decided you were right! What gives you that right, huh? What gives you that right over me? You weren't born to make my decisions, so shut up, sit down, and stop telling us how to live our lives, because you aren't anybody's hero!"

The choir room was dead silent.

Santana swiped at her tears, only noticing them now. Stupid god-damned tears again!

She turned and fled from the room again.

She didn't want to think about Finn's stricken expression, or Kurt's awkward and understanding one. Her whole chest ached. Why did it have to hurt so much? She didn't even see where she was going. Pain drove her now.

The girl's locker room lay ahead of her. It was well after bell time. It would be empty now. That was Santana's only thought before she pushed open the door.

In the silence between red metal lockers, she gulped for breath. Alone, there were no judging eyes, no pity, and no demands. Only the emptiness and her own sobs.

Becky was a bitch, Coleman was an asshole, the school allowed it, and her own grandmother hated her as much as this godforsaken school did. Santana had never tried to make people like her, but hatred had never been this heavy, like the whole world meant to crush her out of existence.

Rage still burnt in her chest and her throat was raw with tears of pain and frustration. Why didn't the whole world just go to hell where it belonged? She was sick and tired of all of it. She was so, so tired of screaming at the world. Why was no one listening?

The door opened quietly, and Santana spun. Her snarl died at the sight of the only beautiful thing left in the world.

Brittany approached slowly, her expression gentle and sad. "I'm sorry."

Santana shook her head. Brittany apologizing made no sense. Why was Brittany apologizing? "You make everything better," she said instead.

Brittany stepped closer.

Santana burrowed into her arms, letting Brittany wrap around her. She felt better there, as though Brittany could keep the whole world from getting to her. As though Brittany's arms were the only armor Santana would ever need.

Surrounded by warmth and the silence of McKinley's empty locker room, Santana let her tears fall and let Brittany catch them.

 

* * *

 

Santana was shoving books into her locker when she heard a familiar voice. There were few enough people left in the hallway that she recognized it immediately. Kurt was deep in conversation with Rachel and Finn. Santana couldn't hear what was being said, but Finn looked serious. Watching them she only felt slightly bad for yelling at him, and she pushed that away easily enough. She hadn't said anything that wasn't true.

She clenched her jaw and finished stowing her books. Brittany was already waiting by her bike, and Santana couldn't wait to escape this shithole for the day. At least Big Foot and Squeak wouldn't be at the Sugar Shack later. That was something to look forward to.

She slammed her locker to find Kurt approaching her.

"If you're going to ask me to apologize to your brother, you can forget it."

Kurt inclined his head like a curious bird. "Actually I was going to ask if you wanted to sing tonight, since Artie just pulled out. You didn't volunteer a solo when we were putting the set list together, so I thought you might want it... if you want to sing to Brittany. I know how much it means to me when Blaine sings to me, how it makes me feel special."

Santana opened her mouth to tell him that she didn't need his advice any more than she needed Finn's, but he plowed on before she could.

"I know it won't change the past or the rest of the world, but the opening's there if you want it. And sometimes people listen better when you sing, than when you yell at them."

"Oh? And why aren't you jumping at the chance to sing more then?" she snapped back.

He wasn't even ruffled. "Believe me, I will if you turn it down. I can't wait for another solo so I can sing to my love twice in one night."

Santana leaned against her locker. "Okay, one: I don't have a death wish, therefore I have no desire to sing in front of a crowd of people who think I need fixing. And two: how do you know I won't turn up with an original song called Kiss My Ass And Go To Hell?"

Kurt crossed his arms, equally unmoved, but his voice was soft. "One: the Sugar Shack will be Glee Club dominated, and whoever else from McKinley turns up will be severely outnumbered, so you'll have plenty of people at your back if it comes to that. And two: I'm not advocating turning Sugar's party into your personal venting ground, but I'm sure Brittany would love your song anyway, whatever you decide to sing, because it's you singing." 

He was so earnest and gentle, it made her want to scream, but even she couldn't find it in herself to attack when those clear Bambi eyes showed nothing but compassion. Damn him.

"It's your decision. Let me know if you want it," he said. "I'll be preparing a song either way." He gave her a small smile before he headed off towards the doors.

Santana watched him go, her stomach twisting painfully.

 

* * *

 

Santana weighed her iPod in her hand. She couldn't quite bring herself to switch it on, but Kurt's offer stuck in her mind. The prospect of singing to Brittany in front of all those people tied her stomach up in knots. Everyone would know then, not just the homophobes and Bible-thumpers who'd rather see her dead than happy, but everyone she'd ever kept any weakness from. They'd all know what she felt for Brittany. How much she meant to her. 

But Santana also knew what Brittany would want her to do. And if the God Squad weren't going to make Brittany feel as special as she truly was, then no one else was going to do it either. And Brittany deserved a special Valentine's Day.

Santana's eyes fell on the brochures of every school she had applied to, scattered across her desk. She still had no replies. She wouldn't know what to choose if she had. It wouldn't take a degree to help Brittany's dreams come true, and she didn't need a degree to find the spotlight either, but both options would help her in their own way. Either choice was as good as the other.

No answers there either.

She clicked her tongue. This was pointless. She hated thinking about stuff like this. It made her gloomy and boring and usually angry too.

Down the hall, the phone rang.

Grateful for the relief, Santana abandoned her iPod on her bed and swung open her door.

She was halfway down the hall when her father reached the phone first. He sent her a smile before he picked up.

Santana sighed. So much for procrastinating. She turned to head back to her room.

"Hello, Maria."

Santana froze.

"Very well, thank you," her father continued. "Were you looking for Marisol? She's out at the moment."

Santana's heart pounded. Her grandmother always used to ask to speak to her, even if it was just to check up on her. She hadn't done that in months now.

Hope warred against the disillusionment in Santana's chest. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but she couldn't just walk away either. She longed to hear her grandmother's voice again, but she also knew her grandmother, knew how stubborn she was, and how proud she was. Santana held her breath as she waited for her father to speak again.

"Yes, of course. I'll go get him for you."

As he lowered the phone against his chest, their eyes met.

"She wants to speak to your brother."

Santana understood instantly. Anger flared, burning sudden and hot, drowning out the pain. She spun and stalked back to her room. For the first time she felt like yelling at the old woman, telling her to screw herself and her resentment. She, Santana, was who she was. She wasn't going to change, and she wouldn't want to. Her grandmother would just have to live with that, whether she liked it or not. And so would the rest of the world.

It was five minutes later that Santana realized she had made her decision.

 

* * *

 

"Santana Lopez asked me if the God Squad would sing a love song for Brittany S. Pierce, and after thinking and praying about it, I knew there was only one right answer."

Santana watched Hippy Jesus warily, fully expecting a letdown. Just like her grandmother. Just like most of Ohio. And it would be up to her to make Brittany smile again later.

"Absolutely. Love is love, man."

When Santana smiled, something loosened inside her, like a weight released. She'd never been so glad to be wrong about something.

Kurt had been right: the crowd was Glee Club dominated. Those not from New Directions were mainly Troubletones and their boyfriends. Only a few other McKinley students were there, but they were so few they were insignificant.

Santana didn't even hesitate to dance with Brittany or to kiss her in front of them. No one leered at them or called out; no one glared or walked out. Santana knew who her real friends were.

Her Team A had heard the news by now and pledged their support by trashing Becky when they came up to her. It made Santana feel oddly gratified, like a teacher with appreciative students.

She hadn't imagined the night could go so well. Even Finn and Rachel's belated entrance couldn't spoil it for her.

Santana and Brittany were sharing a booth with Kurt-and-Blaine during Rory's surprisingly uplifting performance of "Beyond The Sea". After Sugar finished bouncing around and cheering, she hurtled across the restaurant towards them.

"Kurt, Santana, are you ready?"

Santana's stomach swooped. Was it her turn already? She hadn't been paying attention.

Kurt glanced at her, the wordless question on his face.

Butterflies erupted in her belly and the Sugar Shack was suddenly loud and crowded around her. All those people... she swallowed. But Brittany was beside her: her love, her support, her everything.

Before Kurt could make a move, Santana spoke up. 

"Actually, we decided I'd do this as a solo."

Brittany turned to her. If the singing Valentine had been a surprise, it was nothing compared to this.

"This is for you," Santana told her, before sliding out of the booth.

She took a deep breath as she made her way up to the stage. Her ears rang with nerves, white noise above anything else, and her knees shook, but her resolve was stronger. She was doing this for Brittany.

"And now," Sugar announced, "not-so-straight from Lima Heights Adjacent, McKinley's very own firecracker..."

Santana wondered, not for the first time, just what went on in Sugar's brain that made her say the things she did.

"Santana Lopez!"

The audience cheered. Santana didn't even see them. She only saw Brittany. It was easier to focus on Brittany than anyone else, as though they were alone in the room, just like the time she sang "Songbird" last year. Still, she swore her heart was about to leap out of her chest with how hard it was beating.

But as soon as the music started, the room settled and her throat released. She'd sung this song at least a dozen times in rehearsal. She could do this. She knew she could. And if anyone gave her crap, she could deal with them too, just like she always had.

Santana took a breath.

_Closed off from love_   
_I didn't need the pain._   
_Once or twice was enough_   
_And it was all in vain._   
_Time starts to pass,_   
_Before you know it you're frozen._

Brittany watched her with a gentle smile and blinking eyes.

At another table, Quinn smiled at both of them. Even Rachel looked over with a proud smile. It was enough to encourage Santana. She'd never opened up like this on stage in front of this many people, but her friends were all around her, ready and willing to catch her if she needed them.

She wouldn't.

_But I don't care what they say,_   
_I'm in love with you._   
_They try to pull me away,_   
_But they don't know the truth._   
_My heart's crippled by the vein_   
_That I keep on closing._   
_You cut me open and I..._

Tina and Mike were still keeping the dance floor warm like they were never going to get tired, and while some couples were already taking a break from the dancing, as Santana sang, others came up to replace them: Sugar and Rory, and off to the side Kurt led his boyfriend out onto the floor.

_Keep bleeding,_   
_Keep, keep bleeding love._   
_I keep bleeding,_   
_Keep, keep bleeding love._   
_Keep bleeding,_   
_Keep, keep bleeding love._   
_You cut me open._

She caught Kurt's eye as he wrapped his arms around Blaine's shoulders, and the smile he gave her was full of gratitude.

She wasn't sure why. But then she remembered Prom, and how they had stood aside for most of it. Maybe she wasn't the only one grateful for another gay couple in the school. Maybe not being alone made Kurt feel better too.

Back at their table, Brittany's eyes were suspiciously bright, but her smile was the same warm smile Santana had fallen in love with all those years ago.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, Santana!"

She stopped on her way back to her chair, and rolled her eyes. "What now?"

Finn was standing in front of her looking awkward. "Can I talk to you?"

Brittany watched her from one table, Kurt, Blaine and Rachel from another, but everyone else was focused on Sugar reclaiming the stage, or they were like Mike and Tina, simply wrapped up in each other.

"That depends," she said. "Do you want to talk _to_ me, or talk _at_ me?"

Finn huffed. "Look, I know you hate me, but I thought we called a truce or something with Lady Music Week and 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.' I thought you liked that song."

Santana felt a lurch in her belly at the memory of that week, but it was faint. She was beyond that now. She was moving on.

"I was having a bad week," she waved him off. "But I promise never to cry on you ever again."

"That's not what I..."

"And I don't hate you," she cut him off. "I just resent you."

Finn took a breath. "I'm sorry, okay? I should have said so sooner, but I'm sorry for my part in everything that's happened. And I'm sorry it caused you any trouble."

Any other time Santana would have been tempted to throw the words right back in his face, but right now she just wanted to get back to Brittany. She just didn't feel like spoiling her own night when it was going so well.

"It's over now anyway," she told him.

"Good," Finn nodded, "because you deserve to be happy as much as anyone else, Santana."

She stared at him, struck silent. He did care, she knew that. It was just too easy to forget that every time he did something dumb.

Finn gave her a smile before turning and walking away, and after a moment Santana too returned to her table and Brittany.

Brittany was smiling as Santana took her seat.

"I love you too," she said.

Santana lost sight of that beautiful smile only when Brittany leaned forward to kiss her.

 

* * *

 

_Can you feel the love tonight?_   
_It is where we are._   
_It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer,_   
_That we got this far._

Santana really hadn't expected the Sugar Shack to feel this comfortable - almost as safe as the choir room - but clearly Kurt and Blaine felt the same. Or maybe the two weeks separation had eroded some of their discretion and they just couldn't keep their distance from each other tonight. Now the two of them danced slowly, not far from her and Brittany, temples tilted lightly against each other, as if neither of them had ever been made to suffer for wanting exactly this.

Other couples danced around them, graceful Troubletones, and from New Directions Finn and Rachel, Rory and Sugar, and while Tina's sweet voice filled the air, Mike was leading Mercedes in a modified Foxtrot. They were both smiling.

_And can you feel the love tonight?_   
_How it's laid to rest._   
_It's enough to make kings and vagabonds_   
_Believe the very best._

Wrapped up in Brittany's arms, Santana felt braver than ever. Why couldn't every day be like today?

Outside those doors lay Lima, McKinley, Glee Club, Regionals, Nationals, and no more than a few months of school. Now that she had her taste of acceptance, Santana was less keen than ever to stick around Lima more than she needed to. She understood what drove Kurt to fly away as soon as he could. She wanted out too, and now more than ever.

Santana sighed and inhaled the scent of Brittany's hair. They didn't talk about it, but they both knew Brittany's marks might not allow her to graduate. Santana was doing her best not to hide her answers in class tests, but she could only help so much. The thought of leaving Brittany behind sat heavy in her belly. She wasn't sure if God existed, and she blamed it on the God Squad for setting the idea in her head, but quietly, in the privacy of her own head, she prayed for someone to look out for Brittany. She didn't know what else to do if Brittany was left at that godforsaken school without her for another year.

There was no way she could leave Brittany there with people like Coleman running the next generation of bullies at McKinley. Something had to change, and she knew as well as anyone that the school’s administration wouldn't do anything. She and the rest of the student body were on their own.

She couldn't stop all the bullies, but she could, and would take out Coleman.

As they danced slowly, surrounded by friends, Santana turned over her options and began to plan.

Because if there was one thing she was good at, it was revenge, and this time no one else would stop her. This one was her call.

 

* * *

 

When Santana walked into the gym early on Wednesday morning, Team B's expressions weren't friendly. She hadn't expected them to be.

"All right, show me what you got?"

A few even rolled their eyes at her order, though they did move to comply, shuffling into place. Santana narrowed her eyes and took notes as she hit the play button. She was going to lay down the law here later. The Law of Santana.

The music started and Team B launched into their routine, a pared down version of the Nationals routine, but with all the flips and jumps Team A had had so much trouble with. They were perfect: every move, every step, jump, and execution.

As much as she hated to admit it, they were impressive. She didn't know what Becky had threatened them with, but they were twice as athletic as her own Team A. They also didn't have Justine holding them back.

But something was off, something Santana had never seen in Team A, a step off beat, a hesitation, a small flaw, small enough to let them sail through Regionals, but large enough to make a different at Nationals, when it counted.

The routine ended with a dozen satisfied and smug smiles.

Santana took them in, only realizing now how many freshmen and sophomores Team B had. Becky had really honed them. Santana was grudgingly impressed.

But the longer she kept quiet and watched them, the more their smiles froze.

Good.

"Okay, two questions," Santana said finally. "One, do any of you actually listen to the music when you do this routine?"

A few smiles slipped. Other girls just looked confused. God, some of them were so young.

"Two," Santana wandered along the formation. Time to test if they were paying attention.

She casually elbowed Shawna as she passed. The girl crumpled in on herself, while Kim lost her balance went crashing to the ground with her. No one else moved. Santana gazed at the two gaping girls, both too shocked to protest.

"What would happen if someone accidentally elbowed you during the Nationals routine?" Santana asked the team.

"We'd keep going," Dahlia said.

"Coach Sylvester would kill us," someone else muttered, but Santana didn't catch who.

"Both right," she said. "And what if the person behind you got accidentally elbowed? Would you even notice?"

No one answered this time.

"So here's what's going to happen: I'm going to teach you to listen to the music and each other, and then I won't have to follow through with the threat I made Team A."

Dahlia spoke up. "What was the threat?"

"My grandmother owns Puerto Rican Hunting Piranhas. They even eat bone. No one would ever find your body."

A few looks were exchanged, some skeptical, but no one was certain or brave enough to challenge her on it.

Santana relaxed. It was good to know they were still suitably intimidated by her. This would work out fine. Soon she would have them working as hard as the Troubletones had ever worked, and that was all familiar ground to her.

"Okay, you're good, sit down."

Team B glanced at each other again.

"I said, sit down!"

They did, but with a lot more confusion than fear.

Santana wandered over to sit down with them. This was the part Mr. Schue always tried to do and often failed, and the part she knew Brittany would excel at: turning a group into a team. She wasn't a teacher and had never considered becoming one, but she was joint Captain of the Cheerios, and this was her job right now.

"So I have some homework for you," Santana told the silent group. "I want you to pair up, and I want you to come up with a routine of your own."

"Why? It's not like we'll ever perform them for Nationals." Again it was Dahlia that asked. Santana could already see her as a leader. If she continued at McKinley she might be Quinn II next year, minus the teen pregnancy.

"Pick a song you like," Santana continued. "Believe me, it's much easier to feel the music if it's a song that matters."

"This isn't Glee Club," Dahlia told her, voice dripping with scorn.

"Which is why I can tell you what to do, or you can take it up with Coach Sylvester," Santana told her. "And when I'm done with you, you'll all be better cheerleaders and you'll thank me for it. I want your routines ready by Monday."

This time, no one challenged her.

"Secondly, a team talks, communicates, whatever. The point is, I don't care if you all hate each other every day at school, but out on the field, and in here, as Cheerios, you gotta get out of your own bubbles and start paying attention to each other. So right now I want you all to share one of your favorite memories, something that still makes you smile when you think about it."

Every pair of eyes stared at her. Santana couldn't really blame them. But she had to believe she was doing the right thing, and she knew deep down, that nothing built bridges like laughter. Glee Club had taught her that.

"I'll start," she said, aiming for offhand. "When I was ten, my friend Puck and I visited Brittany. It was winter and we spent the whole day in her garden building a brigade of snowmen." Santana smiled at the memory. She could still see in her mind the snow piled up around Brittany's house, and their bright red coats against all that white. She remembered Puck's lopsided snowmen, and Brittany's perfectly poised and dressed snow-gentlemen. She laughed to herself. "Brittany's were masterpieces, and Puck was so proud of his, he called them disasterpieces. But all day it was just us and our snowmen, doing what we wanted. None of our parents wanted to come outside, so they let us run wild. It was one of the best days of my life."

A few of the girls smiled hesitantly back at her.

An uncertain silence hung over them.

Then Kim spoke up. "My favorite memory is from my fifth birthday."

One by one, Team B brought up favorite holidays, favorite relatives, friends, pets, and gifts that were never forgotten. Once the ball was rolling, everyone was inspired by a story, and everyone wanted to share something. Some stories provoked laughter; all of them evoked smiles.

When the last girl fell silent, it was the mouse-like Rosie who asked the question Santana had been waiting for.

"So, we're not training today?"

"Do you really think you need to go over your routine again?" Santana asked them, leaning back on her palms.

Almost every girl shook her head.

"You are training," she told them. "Now, I don't do inspirational speeches or anything, but I know one thing: a team is more than just athletic prowess and perfect steps, and that's what the Cheerios need to be if we're going to win Nationals this year. This is my last year and my last chance to win, as Captain, and I want that trophy. And I'm not losing this chance because any other team is more cohesive or harmonious than we are. You're already perfect at the routine steps. Now you need to be better."

She was getting through to them, she could see it in their faces. A couple of the girls even nodded. As far as inspirational speeches went, she was quite proud of that one.

"Go and get started on your homework. I still want your own routines ready on Monday morning."

Team B left the gym talking amongst themselves, working out pairs, already exchanging ideas.

Santana couldn't be prouder. She knew exactly what these girls needed to learn and how to teach them. The feeling of accomplishment followed her all the way to the door.

Then Coach Sylvester stepped out from behind the bleachers.

"How long have you been watching us?" Santana asked, trying to pretend she hadn't just jumped clear off the ground in surprise.

"Long enough," Coach Sylvester said. "And I gotta admit, I'm impressed."

"Really." Santana's tone was so flat it wasn't even a question.

"Well, you might even manage to turn Team B into a decent team without maiming or torturing anyone. And in just a few weeks, at that." And that was good to hear.

"Thank you, Coach," Santana said. It was always nice to get some of Coach Sylvester's rare praise.

"Oh, I wasn't congratulating you. I'm impressed with myself for coming up with the idea."

"Wait," Santana held up a hand, "it was your idea to have Becky and me swap teams?"

"'Course it was," Coach Sylvester said. "Had to get the best out of both of you, and just look at you two trying to outdo each other, and how much the Cheerios are benefitting."

Santana couldn't disagree. Most of the Cheerios would definitely be better for having had both her and Becky put them through their paces in smaller groups. At the start of the year she and Becky had both hated having to share the captaincy. They'd forgotten that Coach Sylvester actually did know what she was doing when it came to training a winning team. Their final routine - the one that was going to win them Nationals - was the best of both Santana's and Becky's leadership.

"Of course," Coach Sylvester continued, "I'm prepared to take it all back if you don't win me that trophy, in which case you'll all spend the rest of the school year cleaning the halls of McKinley with your tongues." She gave Santana a patently false smile and turned to walk out of the gym again.

At once gratified and insulted, Santana took a moment to remember the rest of her plans for the day.

"Coach!" she called out before Coach Sylvester could disappear out the door. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

Coach Sylvester turned slowly.

"It's about another student at school."

 

* * *

 

Wednesday afternoon and the halls of McKinley were full of students eager only to head home. Santana, on the other hand was on the prowl. It was nice walking down the school halls again without having to worry about Coleman turning up, because right now she knew exactly where he would be. As expected, most of the school population avoided her, kept their eyes down, kept moving. She was still a big cat in a small kingdom, and now she had the pride to prove it.

Kurt was busy pulling books out of his locker, and for once he was alone.

"Hey, Hummel," she leaned against the locker beside his. "Where's your boy toy?"

"Blaine," he said with emphasis, "is meeting me here in two minutes. What do you want?"

Santana smiled happily to herself. "Oh, nothing. You know, just hanging out."

One of Kurt's eyebrows rose. "You look pleased. Should I be worried?"

"Not unless you've done anything to piss me off." Santana's gaze went down the hall, to where Coleman was goofing off with some equally stupid friends of his.

Kurt followed her gaze. "So... what are you really doing here?"

Santana couldn't suppress her smirk. "Like I said, just hanging out with a friend. Waiting."

"For what?"

When Santana looked over her shoulder she could see a familiar red tracksuit already approaching. "For that."

Coach Sylvester stalked down the hall, goggles on her head, a power drill in her hand, and Becky at her heels.

Santana and Kurt watched as she strode up to Coleman's locker. "Josh Coleman," she said, loud enough for the entire hall to hear.

Coleman jumped. His smile fell when he saw who was addressing him.

"I'm going to need you to open your locker," Coach Sylvester said, deeply serious.

"Is... there a problem, Coach?" Coleman asked.

"Open your locker," Coach Sylvester repeated. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way." She held up the drill.

Coleman made the smart choice for once and dialed in his combination. If Santana had memorized his habits right - and she knew she had - he wouldn't have looked inside it since classes ended. He'd been too busy with football up until now.

The door swung open. A couple of small brown envelopes fell out onto the floor.

Kurt breathed, "Oh my god..."

Coleman went pale. "Coach, I have no idea how those got in there. I swear they're not mine." He, like the rest of the school, knew exactly what those little packets were. And all it had taken Santana was following Puckerman's directions. Easy as terrifying freshmen.

Coach Sylvester looked grim. "Save it for Figgins. Becky, make sure no one touches anything." She thrust the drill at Becky and marched Coleman off to the office.

Becky took up guard, brandishing the tool like a weapon.

Kurt turned to Santana. "At the risk of hurting my dad's public image, I'm going to pretend you only witnessed Coleman putting something into his locker."

"That's right," Santana told him cheerfully. "That's what I told Coach Sylvester too. Well, that and the fact that he'd been harassing me, but the school board doesn't care so much about that. Such a shame when drugs make you do stuff like that, don't you think?" 

"Yes," Kurt said, "Coach Sylvester hates bullying when she's not the one doing it, and while the school board doesn't care about that part, they will have to expel him for the marijuana. What a lucky coincidence for you."

"Well, it was about time something good happened to me this year."

"And I supposed Mr. Ryerson is buying himself a new car right now?"

Santana shrugged. "That or an entertainment system." But she couldn't stop smiling. She felt really good right now. She was back on top and in charge. Just as it should be.

"Well," Kurt said, "as illuminating as it always is talking to you, I have a date." He slammed his locker.

"Oh, don't strain anything," Santana told him. "We need you both for Regionals."

Kurt gave her a dry stare. "Goodbye, Satan."

She waved after him, watching him walk down the hall.

Sam, Finn, and Blaine were waiting further down the hall. Sam and Finn were miming some sort of football pass, goodness only knew what they were talking about, but Blaine's face lit up as Kurt approached.

They didn't touch, although the looks they shared should have been enough to inflame the whole school. But when Santana looked around, no one was paying them any attention. It was as if they stood beyond all that, like there was nothing more the school could possibly throw at them. Like they had already prevailed.

For the first time, Santana understood some of that feeling.

After a quick word, the four of them set off for the car park together.

 

* * *

 

Brittany was already straddling her bike, when Santana approached.

"What took you so long?"

Santana crouched to unlock the chain on her own bike. "Just doing some cleaning up," she said. "Are your parents still going to be out this afternoon?"

"Yeah, until seven at least, but they said they were okay with you coming over."

"That's not why I was asking," Santana said.

Brittany watched her placidly, as Santana shoved her chain into her bag. It was hard to tell what she was thinking.

"I want to be alone with you for a while," Santana clarified.

"Okay," Brittany said, her smile spreading across her face like a ray of sunshine.

It was still cold and the wind would freeze her fingers on the ride to Brittany's, but the promise of warmth was worth looking forward to.

Spring was on the way and graduation, but so was a future outside of Lima.

So maybe things weren't perfect, and she had no idea what was going to happen next year, but whatever it was would be her choice. Her decision. Her grandmother, Coleman, Becky, Finn, Mr. Schuester, and everyone else faded away. They were only obstacles, but this was her life, her future, and she was taking it back. Getting outed, rejected, harassed, and stabbed in the back had shaken her. But it would never break Santana Lopez. Her grandmother had raised her stronger than that.

She had college in her future, she had friends, she had Coleman off her back, and there was a whole world out there that would sometimes, but not always, try to crush her, because most importantly, she had Brittany, and that was worth everything.

She and Brittany left McKinley's gates on their bikes, side by side.


End file.
